


Dangerous Women

by SWTORpadawan



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Korriban (Star Wars), Meeting the new boss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 20:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19730881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SWTORpadawan/pseuds/SWTORpadawan
Summary: The newly promoted Cipher Nine is one of the most dangerous women in the galaxy. But even she has limits.





	Dangerous Women

**_Author’s Notes:_ ** _The following story takes place early in Chapter One of the Imperial Agent story._

* * *

* * *

The woman now known only as Cipher Nine exhaled slowly, as she regarded the dead bodyguard lying in front of her. She continued to grip her blaster, ready for more if needed.

Beside her, Kaliyo Djannis was clutching her own blaster while breathing heavily as well. Two additional bodyguards lay dead on the floor of the sanctum, a testament that the Rattataki was as good as her reputation. Indeed, each of these dangerous women were combat veterans who had seen countless firefights. Cipher had killed her share of bodyguards and wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that Kaliyo had done the same. Truth be told, this ‘Jakker’ fellow lying dead on the floor wasn’t even the first ‘bodyguard commander to a Sith’ to find himself at the wrong end of her recently-fired blaster. Even just within the last few days, the duo had seen plenty of hard fighting on Hutta and Dromund Kaas, not to mention that little ‘Black Talon’ mission.

All other things being equal, there was no reason for either the Cipher or Kaliyo to be overly distressed over three more dead bodies.

Of course, even for this vaunted pairing, they weren’t accustomed to being invited into somebody’s office only to have their host sic their minions on them. 

The awkward silence was finally broken up by a distinctly menacing **giggle** from behind the massive desk.

“Oh, wonderful. My poor bodyguards.”

Darth Zhorrid, the newly-minted Dark Lord of the Sith and member of the Dark Council, sat at the desk, looking delighted by this turn of events. It had been less than two days since Zhorrid’s father, the dreaded Darth Jadus, had been killed in a devastating terrorist attack over Dromund Kaas. Zhorrid had taken his place on the council almost immediately, assuming his powers and responsibilities. Ever since she had received this assignment to track down the terrorist cell responsible, Cipher had been hoping – praying, really – that Jadus’ successor would be less insane than he had been.  
  
Her instructors had always taught her that hope was a crutch of the weak and incompetent.

Zhorrid was insane. And even more dangerous than her father.

“I’m starting to get a little peeved. And a little creeped out.” Kaliyo spoke up, eyeballing the Sith Lord and not bothering to holster her weapon. Nine was impressed that the mercenary’s voice had remained relatively level. 

Zhorrid giggled again, rising from behind her desk.

“We haven’t been introduced. I’m Darth Zhorrid, Lord of the Dark Council and successor to Darth Jadus.”

Nine regarded the Sith with an appraising eye. Objectively, she was beautiful, in her own her own way, with fine features and a mane of lustrous raven hair. Her deathly pallor clearly marked her as a Sith, however, and one who had experienced significant corruption in her life despite her relative youth. Indeed, Zhorrid’s face boasted several scars around her face and neck that further reflected that although her life as the daughter of a Dark Lord may have been a privileged one, it had not been a sheltered one.

Nine bowed.

“Cipher Nine, at your service, my lord.”

As was the norm, Imperial Intelligence operatives – and most Imperial citizens – had deference to Sith drilled into their minds. Nine may not have been born Imperial and may have been inevitably reminded by _someone_ of her Chiss heritage almost every day. But she knew what was expected of her and would not fail to follow through. 

“Yes, of course.” Zhorrid walked around the desk, approaching her, the same predatory look adorning her lips. She finally came to a stop, less than an arm’s reach from the Cipher agent. Nine could feel Kaliyo tensing up again next to her, though fortunately she was disciplined enough not to say or do anything. For the moment.

“I hear you’re investigating my father’s assassination. I wanted to see if you were worthy.”

 _Of course_. Nine should have suspected as much. Jadus himself had ‘tested’ Nine on Drommund Kaas, both in the assignments she had been given and with his private ‘inoculation rite’. Although his death had been counted a catastrophic failure against Imperial Intelligence’s record, Nine couldn’t say she was sorry to see the end of him. 

“I trust my performance meets with your satisfaction, my lord.”

Zhorrid let out another giggle. As could as Jadus had seemed, her mirth was nearly as disturbing.

“Now send your little friend away. I want to speak to you in private.”

Kaliyo, clearly perturbed by the remark and the dismissal, opened her mouth to say something. Acting quickly, Nine turned and reached out to grasp the Rattataki’s shoulder.

“Go ahead, Kaliyo. It’ll be alright.”

Nine kept her voice and posture confident and assured. To be honest, she was anything but. She might not completely trust Kaliyo, but she had somehow been a reassuring presence regardless.

Kaliyo gave her a hard look but finally relented. 

“Fine, Agent. I’ll be outside.” 

The mercenary turned on her heel and made her exit. Strangely, the Sith Academy didn’t seem to have closed doors, almost as if the designers had been tempting their students to eavesdrop. She wondered if Kaliyo could resist that temptation. 

She rather doubted it.

Zhorrid was regarding her carefully, an amused expression on her face.

“I could sense your feelings during the fight. I think you’ll do nicely, tracking these terrorists.” She started pacing around the Cipher agent while Nine stood at attention. She had worn her dress uniform, as it was her first time on Korriban, and it seemed more appropriate than her standard field gear. It wasn’t her first choice of attire for a combat situation, but it obviously hadn’t encumbered her significantly in the bloody fight that had finished only moments earlier.

Zhorrid, now standing behind her, now leaned in over her shoulder, her lips mere centimeters from Nine’s earlobe. The Sith whispered. 

“But are you really sure that this ‘Eagle’ killed the mighty Darth Jadus?”

Nine turned her head towards the Sith, but only slightly. She understood perfectly well that Zhorrid was like a nexu stalking prey, and any sudden motion could prove fatal.

“He claimed responsibility.” She answered, matter-of-factly.

Nine could _feel_ Zhorrid’s smile widen into a grin at her response. She was about to speak further, to clarify her remarks when she felt the _push_.

In less than a second, Nine felt herself go flying across the room, her back slamming against the wall of the chamber. She felt herself her body pinned in place by something unseen. And she knew precisely what it was.

 _The Force_. That damnable energy field that encompassed everything living. The power that gave Sith and Jedi their extraordinary abilities.

The gift that had seen Nine’s mother exiled from the Chiss Ascendency along with her two young children, fleeing into the arms of the Sith Empire for sanctuary and training… only to meet her end on this very world when she apparently couldn’t quite measure up to the training all those years ago. Nine had promised herself that when the Imperials trained her as an intelligence operative, that _she_ would not fail as her mother had.

Zhorrid strode over towards her, still holding up her hand to hold Nine in place against the wall. The Cipher knew perfectly well that in her present state, the Sith could kill her just by closing her fingers together and Force-choking the life out of her. The slightest flick, and that would be the end of her.

“It was quite a speech.” Zhorrid mused. “But it doesn’t prove anything. Jadus… Jadus believed in spreading the fear and anger to every planet and species in the Empire. Even to creatures like _you_.”

Here, Zhorrid reached out with her free hand and tenderly caressed Nine’s cheek.

Every primal instinct in the Cipher agent’s spirit, every muscle in her body, _screamed_ at her to resist. Break free. Fight.

Back in her days at the academy, one of the older students had tried to attack her once. She was the only Chiss in her section, with few friends and little hope of support from the administration. In the bigoted culture of the Empire, she must have seemed a ripe target. Her rational mind knew, even in the moment while it was happening, that if she went for help it would not go well for her. But what her would-be attacker probably didn’t know was that she was the best student in her class. She had lashed out on instinct, breaking his wrist and leaving him with a shattered kneecap. Then – after a well-placed kick in the groin – she had made him swear that he would never so much as touch another female student.

Later she had heard that when he had reported to the medical bay for care, he had told the attendants that he received his injuries in a ‘fall’.

He would not be selected for training in Imperial Intelligence.

(True to his word, or perhaps out of fear, he never tried something like that again.)

Now she was here, in this position that felt so very similar to the one back in her time at the academy.

“You know, I have never had the opportunity to examine a Chiss up close for myself.” Zhorrid mused. Nine had turned her head to the side, trying hard to keep the indignant scowl off her face.

The possibilities and probabilities flew through her mind in an instant.

She could struggle, and possibly free herself. She could cry out, and possibly alert Kaliyo. She could fight Zhorrid, and possibly, possibly, _improbably_ she might actually win.

But none of that would change the fact that she was in the middle of the Sith Academy on the Sith homeworld in the middle of the Sith Empire. Imperial Intelligence would disavow her and hunt her down if she even lived that long. Defying and striking out against the Sith was an absolute taboo. No amount of luck or skill could save her if she fought. 

_No_. She could do this. Between her Imperial training and her famed Chiss discipline, she would survive.

Zhorrid grasped Nine’s chin, tilting her head until she one again faced the Sith.

“And such lovely red eyes, my pretty alien.” She mused. 

With all her willpower, Nine resisted the urge to spit, curse or even make a face. Survival in this moment meant doing and saying nothing.

Abruptly, Zhorrid withdrew her hand and turned away. Nine immediately collapsed to the floor, released from the Force hold. She quickly got to her feet, backing away from the Sith.

Zhorrid, seemingly oblivious, began to pace the room, speculating.

“Perhaps his ambitions drew too much attention; any one of his rivals on the Dark Council might have killed him.”

Nine knew that an answer was expected. But this time, she knew what Zhorrid wanted to hear.

“You think a Sith was behind the attack.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” The young Dark Lord replied, almost whimsically.

She finally turned back to the Cipher, who by now fully composed herself.

“Chase after your terrorists. Save the lives of the Imperial citizens. But if you learn who’s really responsible, come to me.”

Zhorrid’s face suddenly darkened, her brow furrowing in anger.

“I’ve earned my place on the Dark Council – and I won’t share my father’s fate.”

Abruptly, her mood shifted yet again. Her voice becoming almost whimsical.

“Dismissed!”

The agent bowed, then turned and departed.

As she exited the room and the academy temple, the woman now known only as Cipher Nine made a silent vow to herself: To survive.

She had survived her mother’s fall from grace. She had survived the academy. She had survived field intelligence training, Hutta and Dromund Kaas.

She would survive the Eagle and his network of terrorists.

And she would survive Darth Zhorrid.

* * *

* * *

**_Author’s Notes:_ ** _For the record, I find the character of Zhorrid to be rather sympathetic. The abuses she suffered at Jadus’ hand as a child are surpassed perhaps only by those Vaylin suffered under Valkorion’s care. As with Vaylin, those injustices proved too much for Zhorrid to overcome, however. The result is an individual who is terrible, crazy and challenging. And I love it._

_As far as Nine is concerned, her early encounters with Jadus and Zhorrid informed greatly on the views she formed regarding the Sith as a whole. I’ve obviously taken some creative liberties here, but I feel they are relatively minor._

_Thank you, and may the Force be with you._


End file.
